The Meanings in the Little Things
by lemonkeygirl
Summary: Kink Meme de-anon.  Russia can't have America, so to content himself, he settles to doing little things to help him out.  America notices his efforts.
1. Chapter 1

Written for the Kink Meme

* * *

Russia watched America scurry around, intent on finding his misplaced cell phone. He would run from one side of the room to the other, sticking his hands in people's pockets, ducking his head under the table and glancing underneath chairs. Russia chuckled under his breath. He had left the room and wandered into the kitchenette where he had seen America before the meeting. Glancing around, he considered the possible places that the phone could have gone. Glancing anywhere food was held, his eyes finally fell upon the fridge and he recalled having seen America with a can of yogurt in his hands earlier on in the meeting. Once again giggling to himself, he open the fridge and pulled out the phone.

Walking back slowly to rejoin everyone, Russia stared at the phone in his hands. People kept their number in their phones, right? Shaking his head he slipped the phone back into his pocket and thought about how creepy it would seem if he suddenly called America on that number. His thinking had brought him to the door and he could hear the sound of America's frantic running coming from inside. Making sure no one was looking, he set the phone down next to the closed door and turned to leave, the meeting was almost over anyway.

oOo

America could be such a slob. The very thought made Russia pout even more as he stared down at America's pile of notes, if you could call them that. Covered in scribbles and pictures of interesting things happening to England (Alien abduction, chased by flying knitting needles, ect.) they where a right mess. America's boss would not be pleased. He couldn't help but crack a smile as he pulled out his own notes, perfect due only to the fact there was little else for him to do at meetings.

A quick glance proved him to be alone in the room. Sitting himself down, he began to copy out his notes, changing his handwriting ever so slightly so it wouldn't be recognized. He finished quickly and laid the new notes atop the colored ones, straightening the pile so that it formed a neat little stack. Shoving his notes back into his inside coat pocket he swiftly exited the room.

oOo

Russia stared at the bottle on the table. A gossip magazine lay next to it, open to a page that was very well worn regardless of the fact that it had only gotten there two days ago. America and England seen together in Cardiff last weekend... It was a french magazine, made by France, and shipped off to all of the nations whether they wanted it or not. But the bottle, the bottle was almost empty.

Damn it all, it just wasn't fair. He didn't mean to drive America away. Because, he was pretty sure he had. But, it was enough just seeing him. Rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand he made a decision. America never needed to know.

oOo

Sheets of rain where pouring off of Russia's umbrella. He stood next to his car as he watched America slam his door and run as quickly as he could to the meeting hall, completely forgetting to lock his car. Sighing at the American's complete inability to remember even the most simple of things, he began to trudge over to the unlocked car.

He felt the last of the warm air from inside the car wash over him as he pulled the door open enough to fit his hand through. Sighing contentedly, he pushed down the lock by the window and closed the door. Silly American, would he ever learn?


	2. Chapter 2

Part Two of Three

* * *

America was panicking. Where the hell did he put his cell phone? He'd checked France's pocket, England's pocket, Italy's pasta pouch, and he had even braved Switzerland's gun box! But alas, his efforts where in vain and he found nothing. After looking for another ten minutes or so, he began to wonder if his phone wasn't in another room. Running over to the door, he pulled it open and nearly tripped over his phone.

"What the?" Bending over slowly to pick it up, he wondered why he would have left it laying on the floor where anyone could find it. Like the American super-spy he was, he immediately brought it up to his nose to smell for evidence. It smelt like... Russian. Anger quickly boiled up inside of him. How could Russia steal his phone like that! Smelling it a second time to gather more evidence, he detected the faint undertone of vanilla yogurt. Oh. _Oh._ He'd have to remember to thank Russia next time he saw him.

oOo

"You go on ahead guys! I left my notes back in the meeting hall!" America arrived at the door to find it half open and someone already inside. Curiosity taking over at the sight of Russia, he immediately hugged the wall, not wanting to be spotted. The large nation was hunched at the table, his pen scratching away quietly. Hey! Those where _his_ notes! Damn commie bastard! Probably trying to steal his national secrets or something! Who knew what he could do with all his weird Communism technology!

America was snapped out of his internal raving when Russia stopped writing and stood up. Bracing himself against the door, preparing himself to face the other, he was surprised when Russia stacked all the notes together and began straightening the pile. Well that was different. Jumping when he realized that Russia was walking towards the door, he quickly scurried away, not wanting to be seen as intrusive. Huh, he'd really have to remember to thank the Russian for that one.

oOo

"Okay America, when I say go, we go."

"Yes sir, England sir!"

"Shut up! You don't want them to know we're here!"

The two brothers crouched behind a bush, fully focused on the blue box in front of them. It was their time of the month to just hang out. And for some reason, England had decided to spend it in Cardiff. America could never understand his brother.

oOo

It was pouring rain. America liked rain, it reminded him of a lot of things. But at the same time, it reminded him that much less pleasant things had also occurred, sometimes on the same day. Not wanting to get soaked as a result of once again not bringing an umbrella to a world meeting, he decided that he would have to make a dash for it.

Upon reaching the building, he remembered that he hadn't locked his car. Turning back to the entrance of the place, he saw a figure already at his car. He blinked as he recognized Russia. In the dim light he could see Russia just barely opening the door and then pushing the lock down. That was nice of him. Humming quietly to himself, he turned back around and began walking towards the other nations. Was it just him, or had Russia seemed a bit sad?

subForgive my nerdy referencing...


	3. Chapter 3

subPart Three of Three... Yeah. Sorry for the fail. I don't know what I was trying to write... (It's formatted very oddly, I know. Blame the 2am I wrote it at.)/sub

"Russia! Hey, Russia!" Ivan stopped as a familiar form ran over to him, arms waving in an attempt to flag him down. Panting heavily America finally skid to a stop in front of Russia. "Hey man! There you are!" Russia blinked at the over enthusiastic man standing in front of him. America was talking to him? What madness was this? "Er..." He fidgeted around nervously wondering what the American wanted.

America grinned wildly and slapped Russia on the back. "Where have you been! It's like you're avoiding me or something!" Russia looked at him in blatant disbelief. "I'm sorry, but why?" America just laughed. "Hey, I never got to thank you for helping me the other day! Well, days!"

"W-what?" America giggled quietly to himself at the look on Russia's face. "You think I don't know? How sweet." Still giggling quietly he wrapped his arms around Russia's middle and started squeezing him. "Stupid! I'm not _that_ dumb!" Russia could feel his cheeks heating up as America continued to hug him. "I-I don't get it."

America pulled away and stared at Russia. After a while he spoke, "Why are you so sad Russia?" The question took Ivan by surprise. "I'm not sad..." "Yes you are! See! There you go again! Making puppy dog eyes! Seriously man! Stop being so cuuuuuuuute!" Russia's aura appeared out of nowhere as he violently pushed America away from him. "Stop making fun of me!" America's brow crinkled, "I'm not making fun of you Russia."

"Yes you are! Just because you think you know how I feel now, you think you can make fun of it!" Russia drew in a shaky breath and shoved his hands into his pockets. "I finally accepted it, and I could deal with just helping, but you can't even let me have that, can you?"America stared at the ground. "I just wanted to thank you, I thought, maybe we could be friends." Russia watched America shuffle around in front of him. Sighing deeply, Russia collected his thoughts. "Nyet America, we can't. I like you to much for that." Russia's gaze wandered to a nearby wall. "I can't do that to myself."

America's head snapped up, "Then I guess we'll have to be more than friends!" Grinning madly, he grabbed Russia's arm and pulled him in for a kiss, only to turn around and drag him down the length of the hall before the Russian even had a chance to recover.

Smiling to himself, Russia joined in with Alfred's jubilant laughter, waiting to see where America would take him next. And fr the moment, he was liking the little things.

Crap ending is crap! I hope you liked it... ;3; I love reviews, they help make it worthwhile... Anyone want an omake?


End file.
